We are Way Out of Our League and the Girl Bully.

In the spring one year my mom bought Matt and I butterfly nets from a local fair. As well as Mason jars with special lids to keep bugs in and holes in the lids to keep bug alive. We loved going out and catching different types of bugs and filling up our jars. We were catching bugs one afternoon when a hardcore little bully girl yelled at us and told us to bring our nets over to her. We tried the old standby nerd tactic and first line of defense, we pretended not to hear her. 
She cut through our clever defensive ruse with her classic bully tactic of the insult/threat, “Are you guys retarded or what? Bring me those nets.” 
We capitulated and sulked over to what could only be certain death for us and destruction for our nets. She took my net and whipped it back and forth through the air making it whistle. Then she did the unexpected and gave it back to me. She told me she would like a net like that. We showed her the bugs we had caught. While we were showing off and beginning to feel like we might just get off this time a couple of kids came up to see what we were doing. 
The bully, Rhonda, recognized one of the kids as a lackey who had fallen behind on his tribute and decided to give him a little reminder tune-up beat down. She grabbed my net, and grabbed the kid by the shirt and rammed the net down over his head. She started yelling at him and asking why he never brought her no Diet Pepsi from his mom like she had told him. He told her if he stole a Diet Pepsi from his mom, she would kick his ass. 
Rhonda decided to show him exactly whom he should most fear an ass kicking from, and punched him as hard as she could right through my poor innocent net. Her assault ripped the netting from the support ring and her victim was bleeding all over it. He tried to pull back and away and she used the ring of the net to pull him in close to her. She told him he better get her some Diet Pepsi or she would kill him. He was released and Rhonda gave me back the bloody pieces of my net. I did not complain. 

Despite all evidence to the contrary, my brother and I were not gay we just liked pretty things.

I saw little of Rhonda until middle school when she was twelve and I was eleven. By then she had a Mohawk and wore slashed jeans over her pink or green leggings. 100% grade A, no fooling bad ass. One day she was walking down the single hall of lockers that made up our middle school singing 'Paradise City' by Guns 'n Roses rather loud and with passion. While in her swagger stride and as she sang the chorus about the place where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, she grabbed a kid by his long hair and slammed his face as hard as she could into his locker bloodying his nose. It was as terrible as it was awesome. The most impressive part was that she did it all without stopping or slowing down, with the grace of a dancer, a psychopathic dancer of death. 
She went right on to class until she was called out into the hall by the vice principal to talk about why she had smashed an innocent kid into his locker. Their argument got so heated that all the teachers and students looked out to see what was going on. The vice principal tried to grab her and she kicked him hard in the crotch and she ran out as he writhed on the floor. I don't think I ever saw Rhonda again.